


Blue Crush

by Reis_Asher



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Android Gore (Detroit: Become Human), Blow Jobs, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Destruction, Don't Like Don't Read, During Canon, Gun Kink, Gun Violence, M/M, Objectification, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rough Sex, Snuff, Stiletto Heels, Submission, Temporary Character Death, The Bridge Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), Thirium (Detroit: Become Human), Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: During The Bridge chapter, Connor is aroused by Hank's threatening demeanor, and goads Hank to destroy his current body for their mutual sexual pleasure.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	Blue Crush

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Graphic depictions of (consensual) sexual violence, consensual android snuff sex (but don't worry because, you know, Connor comes back), gun violence, alcohol abuse, android dehumanization, objectification, fetishization, detachment of body parts, heel fetish, and super rough sex including a blowjob from Connor's decapitated head! Also this is a trans Connor fic, the terms used are vagina, hole, sleeve, dick.
> 
> Notes: Look, this fic is downright Nasty and not for the faint of heart. It wouldn't be hot (in my opinion) if it wasn't for the fact that Connor is an android who can literally transfer to another body, and he doesn't feel pain. Connor does deviate, so it is consensual, but it is also really extreme. Just so you know. Dead dove, do not eat--consider yourself warned and do not complain if you look.

"No doubts, no mistakes, no weaknesses… Human being just like me, only perfect…" The threatening growl of Hank's voice vibrated Connor's eardrums in a particular way, sending an electrical impulse down his spine.

He'd never felt anything like it, and he wanted to experience it again. Hank was dangerous like this, drunk and trying to get a reaction out of him. Staying calm only seemed to make him more aggressive, and Connor needed to see that side of him more than he needed thirium or battery power.

"I'm sorry but… I don't see what you're getting at," Connor remarked.

Hank pulled his revolver from his coat, pointing it at Connor's forehead. Connor closed his mouth to avoid a moan escaping his lips. His systems were cascading, programs crashing as all processing capability rerouted to his sexual functions. His vaginal biocomponent filled with lubricant, and his tiny dick stood erect, straining for touch.

The menace hadn't left Hank's tone of voice. "What'll happen if I pull this trigger? Nothing? Oblivion? Android heaven?"

Connor stepped forward, the gun's barrel brushing against his forehead like a caress. "You know you're not going to shoot me. You're just trying to provoke a reaction. I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you."

Maybe on the outside, but his legs felt weak. A thousand preconstructions poured into his brain. Hank tearing his clothes off. Fucking him with the gun. Crushing his face underneath his shoe. He wanted Hank to abuse him. To insult him while he fucked him senseless.

Hank continued. "Tell me this, smart ass. How do I know you're not a deviant?"

"I self-test regularly. I know what I am, and what I am not." A dozen warnings went off in his self-preservation program. It was the wrong answer. Goading Hank was dangerous.

He wanted dangerous. He moved slightly as Hank's finger pressed down on the trigger. The bullet passed through his cheek, shearing off his plating and sending thirium and plastic splinters everywhere. He found himself looking at a red wall, CyberLife's instructions binding him to the mission, even now.

Well if they cared about the mission so much, perhaps they shouldn't have built him with desires and thrown him in Hank Anderson's path. As bound as he was to the investigation, his need for Hank to ruin him was all-consuming. He tore down the wall without thinking, completely uncaring about anything other than Hank destroying him sexually.

Hank dropped the gun like he'd burned himself with it, but Connor only smiled. "Go on, Hank. Hurt me. Destroy me. Rip me apart with your bare hands. I know you want to." He knew he had to look like a thing from a horror movie, a pretty boy with a messed up, mechanical face advertising his inhumanity, but he could sense Hank's arousal despite all that. His blood pressure and heart rate were elevated, and his cock was thickening beneath layers of denim, giving him an undeniable bulge in the front of his pants.

"What the fuck? You blow a gasket or somethin'?" Hank's bright blue eyes were largely eclipsed by huge pupils struggling to draw in as much light as possible to process what he was seeing.

"Perhaps you should have another drink," offered Connor.

"Another drink, yeah." Hank reached behind him and grabbed a new bottle from the six-pack on the bench, popping off the cap with ease. He chugged it, tossing the bottle aside once he was done. It rolled across the path and came to rest beside a trashcan.

"Aren't you going to finish what you started? I know you're sexually aroused, Lieutenant. I'm just a machine, incapable of feeling pain. If you kill me, I'll come back tomorrow, good as new." He rounded on Hank, who pushed him back. Connor stumbled over a loose brick and tumbled backwards, landing heavily. Hank stalked over and pressed the sole of his shoe into Connor's good cheek, pinning his head against the ground.

"Don't make me do this, Connor," Hank growled. "You don't know what I'm capable of."

"I've wanted to find out ever since you slammed me into your cubicle wall," Connor muttered. "I was designed for you, Lieutenant. Use me like a toy and break me. Please."

The sharp intake of Hank's breath told Connor he'd struck a nerve. "Figures you were nothin' more than a pretty bimbo fuckdoll with some features tacked on." He pulled a pocketknife from somewhere and bent down beside Connor. He sliced a downward line through his clothing, leaving his shirt in tatters and hanging off him. Hank licked his lips and dived down towards his nipples, sucking on one while he pinched the other with a great deal of force. The sensory data was overwhelming and Connor groaned.

Hank let go of his nipple. "You're nothin' but a plastic slut. Was that CyberLife's real plan? Pretend to investigate themselves through you but have you seduce me so I'd go soft on them? Well, mission failed, Connor. I'm gonna wreck you tonight."

Connor knew he should be scared, but he wasn't. He'd died already on the highway and come back. Hank had been surprised then, but he wouldn't be surprised a second time. He slapped Connor's chest hard, the sound of his bare palm against Connor's gel skin echoing through the night. His skin retracted where Hank hit him, leaving white patches that faded in moments.

Hank reached down and unbuckled Connor's belt, stripping it out through the loops. He put it aside and pulled his jeans off, leaving Connor naked and exposed. Hank reached in with big, calloused hands and parted Connor's pussy lips roughly, stretching his hole wide to get a good look. Connor's dick strained for touch, but Hank only pushed him back against the ground roughly.

"Get up," he barked. Connor did as he was told. Hank picked up the belt in both hands and pulled it out to full length. With the buckle side facing Connor, he whipped it through the air, the harsh end of the buckle landing on Connor's ass. Hank did it again and again, not satisfied until Connor's ass was torn and bleeding blue.

"Surprised they didn't fill this bubble butt with silicone. Your tits, too." Hank manhandled Connor, forcing him to turn around. He took the belt and slapped it across Connor's chest until his nipples were a raw, thirium-laced mess, his chassis damaged by the belt's blows. It exposed some of his wiring, and the blue glow of his internal maintenance lighting. "Look at you. You're enjoying this."

Connor couldn't deny it. This was everything he'd dreamed of and more. He only hoped Hank wouldn't pull punches in the end. He wanted Hank to push this to the limit and beyond.

Hank was walking back to his car, and for one heart-stopping moment Connor wondered if this was it.

"Where are you going?"

"Stay right there." Connor didn't even think of disobeying. Hank went to the trunk of the Oldsmobile and pulled something out. He seemed to be changing his footwear. The clack of heels on brick echoed as Hank walked back, slightly wobbly but otherwise in command. A pair of red stiletto heels, probably custom made, graced his huge feet. Connor fell to his knees before them, and Hank kicked him the rest of the way to the ground, making his nose spray blue blood. Hank stood on his face, crushing the heel into the remnants of his nose as Connor whined with pleasure.

"Please, Lieutenant, lower," Connor pleaded.

"You want me to step on your dick?" Hank rested the shoe on his throat, applying minimal pressure, then lifted it off. He walked around to Connor's feet. Connor opened his legs, inviting Hank in. Hank put the toe of his shoe between Connor's legs, spreading his pussy, before working his way up to caress his slit with the heel. Connor shifted down, letting the heel penetrate him. Hank seemed content to let him fuck himself on it for a few moments before he pulled away and slammed his foot into Connor's dick. Any human would have screamed in agony, but Connor only let out a deep, involuntary groan of pleasure.

"You like that, boy?" Hank asked. His eyes were focused and intense, no sign of the alcohol in his system.

Connor nodded, incapable of speech with all the sensory data flooding his core. Hank kicked him again and again before stepping on his dick with the heel, wiggling his foot like he was stamping out a cigarette.

Connor gasped and came, jerking involuntarily as Hank pressed his heel deeper, adding extra weight. Connor squirted lubricant out of his hole, the pressure on his sexual organs emptying his entire bag of lubricant in one fell swoop.

"These fucking legs are in the way," Hank complained. "How do I remove them?"

"Grab each side of the joint and twist… yes, just like that." He felt relieved as Hank detached one leg, then the other. He really was becoming nothing but a sex toy for Hank's use and eventual destruction, and he'd never felt so _alive._

"Lift your arms." Hank removed those as well, kicking them away like worthless extras. He wouldn't be needing them again.

Hank lifted Connor's torso and hauled him over to the bench, setting him down as he unbuckled his own belt and unzipped his jeans, hauling out his magnificent erect cock. It was huge, thick, and unbelievably hard, blue veins standing out on it, the head a deep crimson color. To think he was going to be a fleshlight for this magnificent thing. It was an honor to bring Hank pleasure like this.

Hank lifted his torso with little effort and mounted Connor on his dick, pushing inside with one stroke. He tore some of Connor's internals, but Connor didn't care. Let Hank destroy him and leave his hole gaping and ruined. It was almost enough to drive him to another orgasm, but he held back. He didn't want to come until Hank was close, so he could drive him over the edge.

"Fucking plastic sleeve!" Hank growled, bouncing him up and down on his dick. Hank grabbed him by the throat, squeezing hard and cutting off Connor's thirium supply to the brain. Connor sagged, his head bobbing uselessly like he was a hood ornament. Tendons and supports in his neck broke, and Hank held his head up by the back. With his other hand he opened Connor's front panel and started to dig around, pulling wires loose and clearing space until Connor could see Hank's cock fucking into his clear plastic sleeve. Hank's cockhead had torn the end and penetrated his cavity. When he came, he was going to fill Connor's chest with his seed, no doubt damaging vital biocomponents which were supposed to be sealed in the sterile, airtight environment.

Connor came at the sight, clamping down on Hank's cock. Still, it wasn't enough for Hank, who yanked Connor off his dick and held him aloft. Without the support of Hank's hand, Connor's head fell off and landed by Hank's feet. Hank tossed Connor's torso to the side and grabbed his head, the spinal column still attached. He grinned, his huge front teeth menacing and horny, and Connor wondered if there was any limit to this man's depravity. He'd unleashed a repressed monster, and he was proud of his handiwork. He was willing to bet a machine had never affected Hank in this way.

Warnings were going off in Connor's HUD, but he turned them off. He only had a minute left to make Hank come before he shut down, and he couldn't speak to warn him. Hank seemed to understand the consequences of his actions well enough, though, as he slipped his dick past Connor's waiting lips.

Bliss. Connor was in android heaven already, his mouth wrapped around Hank's cock. This was what he'd been made for. This was where he found purpose. In the morning, he'd be physically whole again, but he'd feel empty after this experience.

Hank's hands were buried in his hair, fucking his head hard and fast. In a matter of a few seconds, Hank managed a half-choked sob and came, filling Connor's mouth with thick semen. It tasted vaguely bleachy, and Connor swallowed only for it to dribble from his neck onto the ground. Hank dropped Connor's head, startled as the horny haze released its grip leaving him to consider the visceral consequences of his actions.

"Oh, Connor. Fuck… what have I done?" Connor looked up from the ground at Hank in mourning, the man burying his head in his hands, and realized Hank cared so much more than he let on. He reached for another beer, and Connor knee he was going to be blackout drunk again before morning.

The timer ran out, and Connor's vision faded as he entered shutdown for the last time in this body.

***

Connor opened his eyes. He'd had some kind of intense dream, but he couldn't remember it now. He stepped out of a stand-up storage case, the soft foam seeming to push him forward into the bright new world.

"Good morning, Connor," a CyberLife technician said. "Your old model was deactivated. You may experience some memory loss, but that shouldn't impact the investigation." There was an odd look in the technician's eyes, as if he was passing silent judgment. Connor wondered how he'd died this time.

"That shouldn't impact the investigation," Connor repeated. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter, rolling it across his fingers to demonstrate he was correctly calibrated. Something felt wrong. He felt empty. He searched for the memory of how he'd been deactivated, but it had been lost in transition to this new body.

He left CyberLife, stepping out into the Detroit sunshine. He was to meet up with Lieutenant Hank Anderson at Stratford Tower, where there had been a security breach and illegal broadcast made by several deviants. Hank's car was parked behind the police line at the tower, and Connor was filled with the overwhelming urge to peek inside. Hank was the kind of guy who never locked his vehicle, even in downtown Detroit. The other cops wouldn't think anything of it—he was Hank's partner, after all.

Connor opened the trunk. It creaked as he lifted the lid. There was nothing inside but a pair of large red Stiletto heels which had been tossed about by careless driving. He picked one up and scanned it, seeing massive traces of thirium only visible to him.

The memories came rushing back in a flood. Connor dropped the shoe, his sexual functions activating as he slammed down the trunk lid. Hank would expect him not to remember. CyberLife had deleted the information, considering it not relevant to the deviant investigation.

But he'd deviated, hadn't he? He'd broken the walls of CyberLife's programming so he could be fucked and destroyed by one Hank Anderson. He tested the limits of his free will as he stood there at the car, and found his deviancy hadn't been erased. He was free to obey or disobey CyberLife as he pleased.

He glanced across the street. He could leave if he wanted, join the other deviants. But he was too deviant for them, wasn't he? They wouldn't understand what he'd done with his first few moments of freedom. They wanted to live normal lives, blend in with humans.

Connor didn't want to be human. He wanted to be Hank's fuck toy, his plastic and silicone bimbo doll. He walked towards the tower, his decision made. He wasn't going to let Hank know that he remembered last night, not yet. The time would come.

And when it did, he would make every attempt to become Hank's willing servant for life.


End file.
